


when the parties fade

by modricistas (mincolla)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Crushes, Fluff, Happy wholesome times, M/M, Post-Match, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mincolla/pseuds/modricistas
Summary: we laughed so hard, it would sting.
Relationships: Harry Kane/Son Heung-Min
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	when the parties fade

**Author's Note:**

> lmao tumblr amirite,,, also yeah ik regi can speak english but stfu i wanted to make a gareth bale speaking spanish joke ok dgjknfnkjsdgjkn  
> dis one is for u matthew . please stop posting about moutitties now .

The bus is quiet, even after the barely-scraped-by win. Coco, Regi, and a few of the other boys have a deathly silent game of Uno going on, but based off of the sheer amount of times “Diet” is said, Harry can guess that Eric’s beating all of them. Gio’s snoring further back in the bus, and Toby’s been on a rather long phone call that has solely comprised of him speaking quiet, rapid-fire Dutch, and smiling like a maniac. Next to Harry, Sonny’s bobbing his head along to some indie German song, softly mumbling the lyrics. His hair, wet from the shower, is dripping a little onto Harry’s shoulder, but he ignores it. Sonny let him have the window seat, so he can let Sonny use his sweater as a towel. 

It’s only fair, he reasons, watching as Sonny bobs his head slower, almost like he’s nodding off to sleep. The bus goes over a little pothole and he jerks upright, a few wet hairs slapping him in the forehead. He gingerly wipes the hair off of his forehead, making a little disgruntled noise that Harry just barely stifles a laugh at. Sonny goes back to his music, swaying side to side along with the beat, humming along. 

Harry doesn’t realize he’s staring until Sonny looks over at him. “What?” he asks, laughing a little, self-consciously.

“Nothing, uh, sorry, I spaced out,” Harry replies, blinking.

Sonny laughs again. “Do you want to listen?” 

“Oh, sure, if it’s not a bother…”

Sonny hands over one of his airpods and starts another song; it’s by a band called Kettcar, Harry doesn’t know who they are, but he adjusts the airpod Sonny’s given him and listens. They go few a couple of songs, most of which sound vaguely the same because of Harry’s lack of German, when Sonny gasps.

“I forgot you don’t know German!” he says.

Harry laughs, assuring him that it’s fine, but Sonny insists he picks the next few songs to make up for all the German indie rock he’d just made him listen to. He puts on the orchestral version of Soul Meets Body, which makes Sonny laugh, and Harry decides in the moment that he’d absolutely go through Poch’s hot coal walk a million times over if it made Sonny smile. Towards the end of the song, Sonny starts nodding off again, but Regi accidentally kicks the back of his chair, startling Sonny upright once again.

“ _Lo siento!_ ” Regi says. 

“He says he’s sorry!” Gareth adds from the back of the bus.

Sonny snorts. “His Spanish is very good, no?” 

"Hey, I heard that!" Gareth responds, sending Sonny into a fit of giggles. 

He hands his phone over to Harry again, gesturing for him to pick another song. Without thinking, he puts on an RnB playlist, letting Jorja Smith's voice drown out the heavy, aggressive thumping of his heart. Sonny sways along to the song, nodding his head, humming along to the chorus. Harry sways with him, bumping their shoulders together when he sometimes speeds up or slows down a little and ends up off beat. Every time he does, Sonny cracks a little smile and bumps him back, softly knocking their heads together. Every time he does, Harry hopes and prays that he can’t hear how fast his heart is beating. 

It's not long before Sonny starts nodding off again, maybe two or three songs into the playlist, and this time there's nothing stopping him from dozing off. He sleepily tries to right himself a couple of times before eventually giving in, and Harry thinks he's going to just lean back into his seat and pass out, but instead, he sways over to the right, head coming to rest on Harry's shoulder. His nose is just nestled against the junction between Harry’s neck and his shoulder, and he tries not to tense up too much because the last thing he wants to do is wake Sonny up again. Sonny’s breathing softly on Harry’s neck, warm waves of air, and Harry has to start taking deep breaths before his heart rate goes over 200 and kills him on the spot. He tips his head back, careful not to move Sonny’s head to much, and starts taking slow, deep breaths, hoping his heart will steady itself out. 

“ _Hermano_ ,” Regi whispers from behind him, nearly making Harry jump out of his skin. “ _Estás bien?_ ”

Harry cranes his neck around, still trying not to stir Sonny, and gives Regi a thumbs up. Regi beams in response, going back to his intense one-on-one round of Uno with Eric, while Harry goes back to having his mini-heart attack. Sonny snores softly, and Harry wants to physically smack himself when he thinks that his snores are kind of _cute_ , they’re kinda snuffly, like the way a little animal snores.

 _He’s not a bunny, he’s the top goalscorer in the Prem_ , he scolds himself, but then he spares just the shortest of glances over at Sonny sleeping on his shoulder and he reconsiders. Just for a second.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by his hands shaking, literally shaking, and for a second he thinks he’s actually having a heart attack or maybe a stroke and is going to die, but then he hears Eric mumble something to Regi in Portugese that falls along the lines of “it’s fucking cold”, and he realizes that he’s just shivering. He huffs out a laugh and realizes he can sort of make out his breath.

His laugh is split right in half by Sonny snuggling into his shoulder, curling up into himself on his seat, and leaning his whole weight on Harry. Just like on the pitch, when they hugged after Sonny’s beauty of a header, he can feel the warmth of his teammate’s body seeping through his sweater and the t-shirt underneath, right into the pit of his stomach. Sonny’s drooling a bit on his shoulder, but it’s kind of adorable in a way, and he’s so warm and cuddly that Harry can’t even bring himself to care, even as his heart starts beating faster as Sonny moves even closer, a hand falling into Harry’s lap, and he grabs it, not even thinking, something in his gut just tells him to do it so he goes for it, cradling Sonny’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together, and it’s kind of… Romantic in a way.

_Oh._

_Fuck._

Harry is no idiot, although he does feel quite slow at times, but there’s really no denying this. He’s pretty sure he, at the very least, has a bit of a crush on Sonny. Sure, pundits and the odd sport journalist might rave about their “connection”, but none of their chemistry on the pitch can compare to how Harry can feel his heart thumping in time with Sonny’s soft little snores, how the sheer closeness of him just makes Harry want to relax, unwind, let himself take a breather. 

The bus shudders to a halt, knocking Harry out of his thoughts, and sending Eric Dier’s unfortunately bald head right at the back of Sonny’s chair, startling him awake. He sits up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and Harry swears he feels his heart skip a beat or two like he’s back in primary school and just saw the boy he fancied - a kid named Brian, he always got in trouble for wearing his Beckham kit to school - smile at him and ask if he wanted to have a kickabout. Harry realizes that he kind of misses the warm, solid weight of Sonny’s hand in his, but soon enough, Sonny’s standing up and gesturing for him to follow. 

As they step off of the bus into the significantly colder nighttime air, Harry grabs Sonny’s hand again, unthinking, remembering how warm and soft he was just minutes earlier. 

“M’ hand’s cold,” he offers when Sonny gives him a bit of a look. Sonny grins and leans into him a little.

“I’m cold too.” he breathes out a little fogged up puff of air, squeezing Harry’s hand. “My house, it is cold too…”

Harry looks at him, trying to see if he’s hearing things or catching on. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sonny frowns a little, and even though he’s freezing, Harry just about melts into a puddle. “You’re nice and hot, like… Like a big bear.”

“I could keep you warm, y’know,” Harry says, trying to keep it banter-y, but Sonny stops walking and turns to look at him. To _really_ look at him.

“Would you?” he asks, and Harry goes to nod, but it feels insincere, so he turns to face Sonny and cracks a tiny grin.

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> comment and leave kudos if it strikes your fancy  
> [here's somewhere to support my writing in other ways!](https://ko-fi.com/toady)


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